


and our heartbeats are blending together

by isabellaofcastile



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Competition, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Love Letters, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 16:24:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13252056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isabellaofcastile/pseuds/isabellaofcastile
Summary: in which viktor is anxious about an upcoming competition, and yuuri writes a secret love letter to help ease his nerves





	and our heartbeats are blending together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [izzyisozaki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/izzyisozaki/gifts).



The day preceding them had been tortuous, to say the least. 

Not only were Viktor’s clothes lost at the dry-cleaner’s, but in a fit of spite toward his departure, Makkachin chewed a shoe from one of Viktor’s best pairs. As he and Yuuri finished their dinner that same night, Yuuri could tell that Viktor was at his breaking point. His stare seemed to go on for miles, his thoughts lost in the stress of the day that he had tried so hard to plan for, and in what ways it may affect his trip. He sat at their table, head in hand, his stare calculating, but quickly losing steam as his eyelids fluttered. When Viktor resigned himself to his exhaustion and brought his dishes to the sink in their small St. Petersburg apartment, Yuuri told him to not worry.

“Just go to bed, okay? I’ve got this,” he said, sending a reassuring smile to an anxious Viktor. He gently laid them in the warm, sudsy water and placed a sweet kiss on the cheek of his beloved, briefly looking into Yuuri’s golden-rose eyes, then walked off to get ready for bed. Yuuri noticed the bags hanging beneath Viktor’s eyes, more pronounced than usual, and was glad to at least do this for him. It was one of his first big competitions since his return to skating, and he was understandably tense. Between choreographing his own routines and training with Yuuri, Viktor had begun to feel the stress. Being who he is, he never let it bubble to the surface, choosing instead to remain cool and calm in the face of chaos. All that, though, had worn him down. Just because he was a world champion didn’t mean that he was cold and unfeeling, it was the opposite, in fact. 

As Yuuri stacked the dishes in the drying rack, scrubbed the sink, and then dried his hands, he thought of what he could do to help Viktor. He was leaving in the morning, so time wasn’t a luxury for him. Yuuri paced around their kitchen, waiting for some water in the kettle to boil, and thought. No idea seemed to stick; Viktor knew how to comfort himself, and he bought what he wanted when he wanted it—he didn’t have to wait for Yuuri to gift it to him, and Yuuri didn’t know what gifts, if any, would grant him comfort. Sitting back at their kitchen table, only the fluorescent light shining above him, Yuuri sipped at his tea. Maybe he should just let it go, be there for Viktor when he needed and leave it at that. But, as he thought this, Yuuri noticed a pen and pad of paper sitting at the edge of the table. He pulled it toward him, looking over Viktor’s notes that he had scribbled and crossed out in the first few pages. Suddenly, an idea came to him.

Carefully, Yuuri pulled out a clean sheet of paper from the back of the pad, as to not disturb Viktor’s notes. Tossing the pad back to the end of the table, Yuuri clicked the pen a few times, and began to think. A letter, of course, might lift Viktor’s spirits! He’d sneak it in his suitcase and see it when he arrives at his hotel. It was perfect! But, as Yuuri searched for the words to say, there wasn’t much he could say that compelled him to put pen to paper. 

Viktor already knew how much he meant to Yuuri… what else was there to say? What _could_ he say? As he sat, nibbling on the end of the pen, he racked his mind for something to write. What does Viktor need, and how can Yuuri put it into words? He thought back to his fondest memories of Viktor, and tried to recall when his love felt the strongest. Of course, many of those times were on the ice, but when? How? Suddenly, he remembered their pairs skate after the Grand Prix the year before. Yuuri remembered how self-conscious he was when he found out that Viktor had seen the video of him skating his FS routine after his loss at the Sochi Grand Prix, but remembered the euphoria that they shared when they skated it together after he won silver. It was validation, that he and Viktor had something that no one else ever could, that they wanted no one but the other for eternity… _maybe that’s what I should write_ , he thought.

From there, even despite his trouble with articulating his own feelings, the words seemed to flow smoothly. Thinking about his feelings on their own was frustrating, but knowing that he and Viktor both showed their love when on the ice helped in crafting what he wanted to say. 

“Viktor,” he started “I know how nervous you must be feeling. I know you’ve been stressed, and things haven’t gone how you’ve wanted them to. Just remember that there’s no need to worry about your performance, because I already know you’ll do amazing.”

He felt it laborious to write any more, and thought that his feelings were succinct enough, but felt an invisible hand compel him to write more; he had looked up to Viktor for as long as he could remember, and though they were engaged to be married, he still felt the child inside of him quiver with excitement whenever he sees Viktor on the ice. “There’s no one on Earth that can create the kind of beauty and atmosphere that you do. I have looked up to you for so much of my life, and I have no doubts in my mind of your performance—you’re always stunning in practice, and your routine is sure to wow the judges.” 

He paused again, thinking to their pair skate. “There’s no one in the world who can skate like you, and there’s no one in the world who loves you more than I do. Just be who you are, because that is what makes your skating so captivating.” 

Setting the pen down, sipping at his tea whose warmth had started to wane, he continued to think. Why was it so hard to write letters? He was hesitant to share the full breadth of his affection for Viktor, but what’s the use in holding back your feelings from your fiancé? Grabbing the pen again, he wrote, “you reached me when I needed it the most, and I know you can do the same for your crowd. I love you, Viktor,” and signed his name. 

When he opened the door to their room, Yuuri peered in and searched for Viktor’s suitcase in the dark. He unzipped it as quietly as he could, trying his best to shove the letter in. His suitcase was, unsurprisingly, filled to the absolute brim. _Jeez, Viktor, can’t you prioritize? You’re only gone for five days, not five weeks…_ But, zipping the case back up, Yuuri stared at it with glee. He hoped that Viktor would be surprised to find it once he got to his hotel. 

He turned to face their bed, and saw that Viktor was still fast asleep. The blanket covered most of his face, such that Yuuri could only see his messy hair and closed eyes. Though he had been exhausted most of the day, it was endearing seeing him sleep so peacefully and calmly. Yuuri slipped into bed gently, as not to wake him, but wasn’t successful. The light sleeper that he is, he began stirring when Yuuri finally settled in.

“Mmm… Yuuri?” He said, turning to face him.

“Yes, don’t let me disturb you. Go back to sleep,” Yuuri replied. Viktor mumbled a quiet “Mmmkay…” into the blanket before pulling Yuuri close to him, quickly drifting back to sleep. 

 

Viktor knows how heavy a sleeper Yuuri is, so he went about his morning as he typically does, albeit a few hours early. After sweeping his hair back with a loving hand and placing a gentle peck on Yuuri’s forehead, still supple with moisturizer, Viktor left; when Yuuri awoke the next morning, Viktor was likely already on his plane. His side of the bed was made, the imprint of his head still in the pillow that he used, his scent clinging to the sheets and beckoning what wasn’t there.

Yuuri went about the rest of his day as he usually would—he went for a run in the morning, practiced his own routine for a few hours after, took Makka for a walk, did some light grocery shopping; he didn’t have to leave for his own competition for a couple of days, but going to Viktor’s would conflict with his own. Over dinner, Yuuri tuned into the livestream of the qualifying competition that Viktor was at. It was all the way across the country, so the time difference was considerable. He called Makkachin into the kitchen to watch, letting him sit on the chair next to him as they watched together. 

To neither of their surprises, Viktor performed beautifully—he had been choreographing his routine for months, finally debuting it today. He looked loose and free, his jumps perfect, technical components clean and polished. In practice, Viktor had a focus that was hard to break. He was constantly calculating and criticizing, but in the stress of the preceding weeks, had been more tense than normal. Yuuri knew Viktor’s skating as loose, enticing, as if he were painting a scene with his own body. 

He trusted that there were few obstacles that were insurmountable for someone as divine as Viktor. Sometimes Yuuri found himself blushing when he watched Viktor practice, enthralled by the way that he navigated the ice, and his routine, as if they were something that he, and only he, could do. To Yuuri, it was as if there was some unknown feeling that existed only for Viktor to express. Those feelings carved themselves into Viktor’s face, one so beautiful it was worthy of currency, while he skated with the same grace as a vine navigating up an old brick house. 

But, lately, it hadn’t seemed like that, and Viktor was clearly frustrated with himself. Yuuri hoped that his letter was part of the reason why Viktor performed so well that night, as he hadn’t seen the beauty exuding from his routine that night in the days before. He felt proud of Viktor, proud that someone so wonderful and magnificent was the love of his life. That he got to share his life with someone he looked up to and was inspired by each and every day. But, nothing less was to be expected of a five-time world champion. 

Yuuri watched the rest of the program’s competitors out of courtesy, and headed to bed as usual. Tonight, he invited Makkachin in with him. There wasn’t always enough room when Viktor was home, so it was nice to have Makka so close. As he plugged his phone in and placed his tea on the bedside counter, ready to settle into the covers, Yuuri noticed a text from Viktor pop up on the screen. Picking his phone back up, the message read, “I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this is a commission piece for izzyisozaki! thank u so much izzy!!! 
> 
> a quick note: i got the comparison to currency from this song (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OIolUDYpkrU)
> 
> my commissions are open for another 2 weeks if anyone wants to let me write out their most opulent vikyuu fantasies! (which i really want to!) link and info here: https://goo.gl/forms/GtcXNQo8WCaXkSyJ3
> 
> i am also on twitter! @isaBELLUH97 
> 
> anyways thank u all for supporting me! i will have an update for CBU ready soon, i promise :-))) pls b patient with me, i love this story so much and i really want to make it as beautiful as possible for u all, and my manager has been scheduling me 5 days a week, and i have little time to spend with my partner, so rip my entire winter break


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